


Watersports

by your_bro_joe



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Established Relationship, Frottage, Jarate, M/M, Piss Play, Urine, Urolagnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 19:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_bro_joe/pseuds/your_bro_joe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy has an unusual fetish that Sniper has no experience with, but he's willing to try anything once to please his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watersports

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnetheCatDetective](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/gifts).



> For my friend Anne for my porn-fic-a-day challenge. She requested Spy with a piss fetish and Sniper without one.

Sniper sighed, giving his junk a quick shake and zipping up. Picking up the full jar and screwing the cap on, he looked at an empty corner of his nest.

“I know you’re there, Spook,” he drawled, putting the jar back down with a tink at the same moment Spy’s cloak deactivated with a small puff of blue smoke. Once visible, Spy straightened his tie and ran a hand over the crown of his head.

“My apologies,” he replied, stepping closer the the enemy Sniper, “what gave me away?”

Sniper smirked, revealing sharp teeth. “Heard you makin’ little noises,” he peered at the other man over the top of his aviators, “you gettin’ off on watchin’ me piss?”

Spy swallowed, blinking only once, maintaining his professional demeanor. “Yes, actually.”

Sniper laughed, smirk turning to a good-natured smile as he patted his enemy-lover on the shoulder. After a few moments, though, he realized Spy wasn’t laughing. “I… I was just havin’ a laugh, mate. You’re not serious, are you?”

Spy rolled his shoulders, knocking off Sniper’s hand. “I am,” he said coolly, eyes narrowed, as though challenging the other man to laugh again.

Sniper didn’t laugh, but he did pull a face. Spy’s stayed stony. “But… I mean, I’ve heard of blokes gettin’ off on that, but… _why_?”

Spy looked away, pacing around the small room. He lit a fresh cigarette and took a few puffs before speaking again.

“I associate it with sexual release. That is the simplest way to put it.”

Sniper watched him from behind his aviators, seemingly chewing the admission over. “So, like… you wanna be pissed on, or you wanna, I dunno, drink it? Sorry, mate, but that’s… that’s just….”

“Disgusting. Horrible. Depraved. Perverted. Oui, I have heard all of those things. And yet…” he took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out the window, “I keep doing it.” He finally looked back at the other man. “I was hoping you, of all people, might understand, or sympathize, considering, well…” he gestured to the urine-filled jars scattered around the room.

“Well, I gotta leak _somewhere_ , and it’s just convenient, it ain’t…” the marksman sighed, taking his hat off and raking a hand through his hair. “Look, Spy, I don’t think you’re… depraved, but this ain’t something I’m used to.” He took a step closer to the shorter man, ran his fingers under the lapel of his jacket and drew him closer. “It’s something I’d have to ease into, if you really wanna do it with me.”

Spy’s composure permitted a slight smile. “You would do that for me?”

Sniper smiled back. “Yeah. I’d do damn near anything for you, you bloody spook.”

Spy smiled a little wider and leaned in to kiss him, cigarette dangling from between his fingers. Sniper kissed him back, sliding his hands around the other man’s back to pull their bodies closer together. They stayed like that for a while.

“So where do we start?” Sniper asked cautiously, finally pulling away. Spy flicked his spent cigarette out the window.

“You just urinated. You do not have to go again, do you?”

“Nah. I could drink, but I retain water like a bloody camel.”

Spy hummed in thought. “Which jar did you just use?” Sniper picked up the jar of fresh urine and handed it to the Frenchman, who cradled it. “Still warm,” he said softly.

“Well, it’s hot as hell up here, so—”

“Shh. Let me have this. At least I know it is not stale,” he said distastefully, looking at the other jars he knew could sit up there and rot for weeks.

“Whatever you say, Spy,” he shrugged. “So now what?”

“Now,” he carefully placed the jar on the floor and leaned over the other man, “we make love.”

“That I can do,” Sniper grinned, and set about undressing the other man.

Both naked, they lay on the floor of the cramped nest, the room just slightly longer than they were tall. Spy was on his back with Sniper stretched out on top of him, rutting against him, their cocks erect and sensitive to the sensation. Sniper gripped the other man’s short brown hair and Spy moaned, gripping the taller man’s ass with both hands.

“The jar, mon amour,” he panted, “open it.”

Sniper reluctantly sat partway up and grabbed the jar, tossing the lid to one side. “Now what?”

“Pour it on me,” Spy panted, “on my chest.”

Sniper quirked an eyebrow, but complied, pouring out most of the jar onto the Frenchman’s bare chest. Spy arched his back, moaning loudly and thrusting his hips more urgently against the other man.

“Mon dieu,” he whispered, hands still holding Sniper’s ass, “mon dieu, mon dieu, oui, mon amour, give it all to me. I need it, s’il vous plaît.” Slowly, Sniper emptied the entire jar. Spy let out a throaty groan, removing a hand from Sniper’s rear to take both their cocks in his hand, jerking them off quickly, roughly. The sight and the smell of the urine, though not as satisfying as watching it spill from another’s body, was enough to finish him off. He came with an almost melodic string of French obscenities, his milky cum mixing with the yellow liquid over his abdomen.

Still catching his breath from his own orgasm, Spy continued to pump their cocks, hoping to get his lover off as well. Sniper couldn’t help but be slightly disgusted by the thought of someone covered in urine, but being in his nest had mostly desensitized him to the smell, at least. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think too hard about the liquid covering the man beneath him and focus instead on the feeling of the hands touching him, stoking his cock and kneading his ass, and the softening penis pressed against his own. He came with a hoarse cry, adding his semen to the mess on Spy’s body.

Sniper stood, once he was able to stand, and handed his lover the towel he kept. Spy took it gratefully and cleaned himself up, then dressed. For these encounters, they did not have the luxury of time.

“Merci, mon amour,” Spy said as he pulled out and lit another cigarette, “that was incredibly satisfying.” Sniper laughed and kissed him.

“Bloody weird is what it was,” he smirked, “but not as bad as I thought it would be. Next time, I’ll try to hold it for you.”

Spy’s face spread into a genuine smile. “Je t’aime, Sniper,” he said softly, stroking a stubbly cheek.

Sniper just laughed again and held him closer. “I love you too, you bleedin’ weirdo.”


End file.
